Return of the MAD
by Nate Grey
Summary: Is Madara a madman bent on world domination, or a lost soul just trying to find his way? Oddly enough, he's both, and he never managed to overcome his greatest foe: repeated blows to the head. But one thing will never change: Tobi is a good boy.
1. Maddiekins and Duckbutt

Notes: The inspiration for this story, much like the story itself, was rather odd. I wanted to do a funny story on the life of Uchiha Madara, or at least his transformation into Tobi. So I turned to my trusty MP3 player, and that's when I heard it. One of my favorite old songs, "Return of the Mack" by Mark Morrison. Naturally, they don't really have all that much in common. But the instant I heard it, I pictured Tobi strolling down one of Konoha's main roads, wearing a blood red fur coat, with a matching pimp hat, tilted to one side, of course. If you can burn that image into your brain, you're more than ready for this story.

Warning: This story assumes that Madara's transformation into Tobi was not the result of a masterful plot for world domination, but of reoccurring blows to the head and, consequently, brain damage. Which, really, isn't funny at all.

**Return of the M.A.D. (Mad Arsonist Destructor)**

**A Naruto Fanfic by**

**Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**

**Part 1: Maddiekins and Duckbutt**

* * *

Blood.

That was the first sight that greeted Uchiha Madara's failing eyes when he finally managed to force the last of his chakra into them.

Madara was no stranger to blood. As both an Uchiha and a ninja, spilled blood was like an old acquaintance of his now.

But not this blood.

In his lap rested the head of his little brother, rival, and constant companion, Uchiha Izuna. Madara knew that his brother was dying, and more importantly, that it was entirely his fault. His eyes had died on him in a critical moment, and Izuna had taken the kunai to the heart that was meant for Madara. Izuna's breathing was slow and wheezy already, and his lifeblood continued to pool around them in what seemed to be an endless stream.

"Damn you, Izuna," Madara whispered as tears of blood spilled from his eyes. Normally, Madara would've immediately cut the flow of chakra to his eyes at that point, assuming he wasn't in battle. But he wanted to witness his brother's last moments. He owed Izuna that and much more.

With a soft groan, Izuna opened his eyes and peered up into his brother's face. "Don't cry, Maddiekins," he said fondly, reverting to the childhood nickname that Madara almost always tried to stab him for using. Thankfully, he was the faster of the two, or at least he was after he got tired of being stabbed. He raised a trembling hand and carefully stroked Madara's cheek. "It doesn't really hurt. I can't even feel it anymore."

"Shut up, idiot!" Madara snapped, tightening his grip on his brother's shoulders. "That isn't a good sign! Stay with me!"

"Onii-sama," Izuna sighed, shaking his head. "It's too late for that. You know what to do."

Madara grew still. "Izuna, no. Your eyes-"

"Have always watched over you, Onii-sama. They were always yours. Please, take them while there is still time."

Madara still didn't move. Uchiha were warriors and killers, and there was not a single notable healer among them. He could take Izuna's eyes, but it would be incredibly messy, and the act alone would surely end what little remained of his brother's life. "I can't. It isn't-"

Izuna used the last of his strength to press a kunai, the very same that had been buried in his heart, into his brother's hand.

Sensing Izuna was about to breathe his last, Madara's grip tightened on the kunai, and his hand moved without conscious thought. Despite being the older brother, or perhaps because of it, he had never been able to deny Izuna anything for very long.

Even when Madara knew his eyesight had been restored, he kept his eyes shut tightly. He carefully let Izuna's head rest on the grass, backed away, and then spewed flames from his mouth, being sure to ignite the entire surrounding area. It was the only burial fitting for a fallen Uchiha. Only when Madara was clear of the fire did he open his eyes to pay his last respects.

"I'm sorry, Izuna," he whispered, staring in the flames. "So sorry..." His shoulders trembled, and then Madara fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands as he began to sob. "Forgive me for my pride, Izuna!" he choked out. "Forgive me, Duckbutt! DUCKBUUUUUUUUUTTTTT!!!"

* * *

Several feet directly above Madara at that moment, a large group of ridiculously large ducks were flying overhead. One of them gave a loud, offended squawk as the cry rose beneath him. "Hey, Boss! Someone has dared to insult the Mighty Summon Ducks!"

The largest duck spun around in mid-air, eyes burning with fury. "The hell they did! I won't stand for it!" He turned to the second-largest duck and bellowed, "GOLDIE! DROP THE EFFIN' HAMMER ON THAT MUTHATRUCKA!"

Goldie let out a squawk of extreme discomfort, and then an egg the size of a large building dropped from his backside.

Near the back of the group, one duck turned to another. "Did we ever figure out how it is that Goldie's a dude, and he still lays eggs?"

The second duck shrugged. "I dunno. I still say it's all a bunch of crap."

"Yeah, I know, but-"

"No," the second duck interrupted patiently, "I mean I don't think they're eggs. I think Goldie's just full of crap, and sometimes he lets it out in these huge, hardened, boulder-like chunks."

The first duck blinked. "Dude, that's gross. Now I kinda feel sorry for whoever it's gonna hit."

"Well, nobody insults the Mighty Summon Ducks."

"Yeah, but did it ever occur to anyone that maybe he just looked up, saw Goldie's enormous butt, and got freaked out?"

"I thought that might be the case," the second duck agreed, "but no way was I going to speak up. The boss is in one of his moods, and I don't want the Effin' Hammer dropped on me..."

* * *

Madara was still weeping when a large, white, boulder-like object struck him directly on the head. It should've killed him instantly. Instead, it broke apart upon impact. But the height from which it had fallen was considerable, and as he lay unconscious in a large pile of hardened duck droppings, Madara had no way of knowing that his life was about to change: for good, but not necessarily for the better.

**End of Part 1.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: Battle of the End**

Madara challenges the Shodai Hokage. Only things don't quite go as planned…

Endnotes:

For those who might not be aware, apparently Izuna looks a lot like Sasuke. I'm assuming that includes the unusual hair shape.

I'm assuming Madara didn't steal Izuna's eyes. For one thing, Madara had no problem killing off his entire clan, so it strikes me as odd that he would deny killing his brother, if he had really done it. I'd instead expect him to take pride in the fact that he'd restored his Mangekyou Sharingan. For another thing, Izuna was supposed to be both Madara's equal, and kind to a fault, so it's pretty likely that he would've given his eyes to Madara, in much the same way Obito gave his eye to Kakashi (there are tons of recurring instances in Naruto, frankly).

Don't scratch your head too hard over the ducks' dialogue. It's just a nod to every dumb, heavily edited movie I've seen on daytime TV, which introduced me to such classic terms as "muthatrucka" and "muthaluva." Although I stole 'Effin Hammer from Sealab 2021.

Also, anyone who tells me this chapter was crap will only get a nod of agreement, and possibly a visit from Goldie. All chapters will most likely be fairly short, though.


	2. Battle of the End

Notes: I know this chapter will conflict with what supposedly happened between Madara and Hashirama, but it wouldn't be the first time the manga made one of my stories "wrong" because of info released at a later date. Although I will say that AT THE TIME I started this story, the info was more or less supposedly correct. If I can ignore it, so can you. I'm sure we've both had plenty of practice by now, anyway.

* * *

**Return of the M.A.D.**

**A Naruto Fanfic by**

**Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**

**Part 2: Battle of the End**

* * *

Since Izuna's death, Madara found himself trapped inside of a living nightmare.

Of course the clan noticed when one of its most prominent members had vanished. Madara had been so lost in his grief that he hadn't spoken to anyone for days. But when he had explained the situation, the reaction he got was both startling and unwelcome.

They suspected HIM of intentionally murdering Izuna. They didn't say it aloud, but they didn't have to. Madara hadn't lived as long as he had without learning to read a man that was plotting. And his kinsmen, the very people he'd trained beside and formed into a powerful clan, were plotting against him.

He told himself that it was loyalty to Izuna that made them question him, and for that, Madara was willing to forgive them. No one challenged his right to rule, at least, so there was uneasy peace, but peace nonetheless.

But the clan's suspicion never completely went away, and several of the more popular Uchiha began to step forward and demand more responsibility in the daily running of the clan. At first it was only tasks that Izuna had covered, so Madara allowed them more power. Then they asked for some of Madara's own duties, and still he allowed them some leeway.

It was only when talk of replacing him entirely arose that Madara drew the line. He called a meeting of the Uchiha council, stated that HE was the sole leader of the clan, and that anyone who thought differently could challenge him for the right to rule, in a battle to the death. It was not cruel or extreme, because the clan leader had to be willing to give his life, for the good of the Uchiha.

One challenger came forward, and Madara defeated him with no trouble. No one questioned his role... for the moment.

Then came Senju Hashirama with his proposal for founding a ninja village. He had come seeking the region's most powerful ninja, and Madara was at the top of the list. At first, Madara had dismissed the idea outright. He was having a hard enough time maintaining control of the clan, and a village would only give them more allies to rebel against him with.

As it turned out, the man who would become the Shodai Hokage was far more clever than he looked. When Madara continually refused to discuss the village with him, he asked for a seemingly innocent sparring match, just to show that he was, if nothing else, nearly as powerful as Madara. It was a bad idea all around: if Madara lost, he would lose respect with the clan, and if he won, it would display more of the power that the clan already feared.

To Madara's amazement, Hashirama was his equal in nearly every aspect. He was a patient, serious man, with a disarmingly polite nature and an easy smile. It was like seeing Izuna alive all over again. Madara's resolve had weakened the next time Hashirama asked him to join the village, but there were still particulars that Madara could not agree to. One was how much power the Hokage would wield, and another was that the Uchiha would be seen as equal to several other clans, including the Hyuuga. Madara wanted better for his clan, and thought that they understood that.

What the Uchiha understood, apparently, was that Madara was in their way. They went behind his back, accepted Hashirama's offer, and joined Konoha. Madara, naturally, was furious. But he kept his peace, and gave no outward sign that the unexpected move bothered him. And from all appearances, Hashirama had no idea what had occurred, so Madara didn't blame him for the betrayal.

Still, the problems that Madara had foreseen arose. The Hokage had no real power over the inner workings of clans, but at the same time, he could restrict them in ways that were far more damaging, so long as he could prove they negatively impacted the village as a whole. For example, the Hyuuga had demanded many concessions, and one was that they be allowed to place certain restrictions upon their members, and exercise the freedom to create, maintain, and conceal their own clan seals.

It was no real secret that the Uchiha had a bloody history with the Hyuuga, or that many Hyuuga saw the Uchiha as sub-human or lower-class ninja. The Hyuuga had always publicly denied having any connection to the Uchiha.

But when a dead Uchiha turned up one day with chakra burns that matched the Gentle Fist style perfectly, the Hyuuga defended themselves by claiming it was an internal matter, as Uchiha were nothing but "watered-down Hyuuga" to begin with.

The Uchiha were livid, and demanded that Madara, as clan leader, respond accordingly. And with their betrayal fresh in his mind, Madara did. He offered not only a public apology to the Hyuuga leaders, but the body of the slain Uchiha for research purposes. As if that wasn't enough, Madara also agreed that any Uchiha caught on Hyuuga land without their permission should be killed on sight. Even the Hyuuga were shocked by such generosity, but they quickly accepted Madara's terms, knowing there might never be a better offer.

Madara knew exactly what he had done, though. The Hyuuga would learn a great deal from studying an Uchiha corpse. But ultimately, one dead Uchiha that hadn't actually been killed by another Uchiha would teach them nothing of his clan's greatest weapon, the Mangekyou Sharingan. The Hyuuga could have ten Uchiha corpses a year, if it would keep them quiet, as far as he was concerned. He'd long since stopped thinking of himself as part of the clan, and more importantly, no longer thought of the clan as being part of him.

He expected some form of retribution from the clan, as betrayal was an old trick for the Uchiha. But Madara had been awaiting the day his clan would turn on him, and he had an ace up his sleeve unlike any other. What he did not count on was that the clan would turn their personal grudge into a matter that threatened the entire village, which would force the Hokage to act in their favor.

* * *

The title of Hokage was not just one of honor, but of sacrifice. Every day, men, women, and children lived or died by his decisions, whether he intended them to or not. Senju Hashirama had learned that the hard way, but it was a burden that he didn't dare give to anyone else, for fear of what they might do with such power.

But Hokage was not an eternal task, and some day, it would pass to another. The Shodai had hoped that his close friend, Uchiha Madara, might be the Nidaime. But if the stories the Uchiha Clan had told him were true, that would never be. For tonight was the night that the Shodai raced out to face Madara, in what would surely be a battle to the death. The crimes against clan and country, if true, were too numerous and heinous to allow to go unpunished. And Madara had long since passed the point where things such as jail time, loss of finances, seizure of property, or even loss of rank could scathe him. Madara was an army unto himself, even before the Uchiha joined Konoha. If he so desired, he could challenge for the title of Hokage, and win by sheer force alone. His was the kind of power that people would follow with little coercion, either out of respect or fear.

The further the Shodai traveled from the village, the more worried he grew. Madara had once had such pride in being an Uchiha. If he had removed himself from both the clan and the village, it would be difficult to convince anyone of his innocence. Hashirama desperately wanted to believe his friend was innocent, but it just didn't seem likely anymore.

It was then that he felt the first wave of demonic chakra, so foul and powerful that the Shodai fell to his knees, fighting with everything he had to keep from being violently ill. As the first and only Mokuton user, he was especially sensitive to anything that had a major impact on the environment. It would be incredibly dangerous to proceed any further without proper protection. Fortunately, nature had provided him with that, too.

Taking a deep breath, the Shodai placed his hand against a nearby tree. "Mokuton: Kuchiyose: Yuurin Kyuusaisha!"

The ground before him shook and split open, revealing an enormous brown bear. Its left eye was blank and sunken deep in a large patch of pink scar tissue, but the right one locked on him at once, dark blue and unwavering. "You were a boy when you first managed to summon me, Senju. I warned you then that if you did so again, we would not be well met."

The Shodai knelt down and bowed his head. "Please forgive me, Artio-sama. But my home, no, this entire land of ours, is in grave danger. I know that you can sense the evil threatening to consume it."

"Indeed," Artio agreed slowly, turning her great head in the direction of the foul chakra. "This is the day that I have long feared. We will face this evil together, Senju. But after this battle, our contract will be at an end. Upon my death, my right to rule will pass on to my sons. None of them will ever forgive you for summoning me for this fight. Do you understand?"

"I do," the Hokage said gravely. "No words can express my gratitude."

"Then don't bother. Come."

A thick moss trail instantly sprouted in Artio's fur, allowing the Shodai to climb onto her back. He had barely settled when she lurched forward, covering miles in mere seconds, and stopping just as abruptly.

They now stood directly in front of the source of the dark chakra, and any hope Hashirama had of surviving the encounter began to dwindle.

Madara was standing in the middle of a colossal seal he'd drawn on the ground. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like an enormous copy of his Mangekyou Sharingan. The Shodai had no idea what the seal's purpose was, but he could tell right away that the demonic chakra was escaping from it.

"You're here at the request of my so-called clan, aren't you?" Madara asked calmly. "I have no doubt that they've provided you with a long list of offenses, Hashirama. So just tell me this: do you believe me to be any different from the day your first met me?"

"No," the Shodai replied. "I believed then that you were a ninja with pride in his clan, and I believe that now. But while you haven't changed, your clan has, and you can no longer recognize them as they once were. Believe me, I've experienced the same with my own clan. But where we differ is that I chose to adapt. It is my job as Hokage to change in whatever way is best for the village. I had hoped you would realize this on your own, Madara."

"And if my clan is wrong?" Madara demanded. "Should I willingly embrace their mistakes, and accept them as truth?"

"You don't have to, old friend. Come back to the village with me. If you like, you can officially part ways with the clan. There will still be a place-"

"You would exile me from the Uchiha?" Madara laughed bitterly.

Hashirama frowned. "Haven't you done that already?"

"I have," Madara agreed with a smile. "But I suppose I should stop pretending. This isn't about the clan, or the village, not really. It's about power."

"You have power."

"Yet I'm not Hokage, am I?" Madara asked. "No, don't say we've talked about this already. I don't mean it in the way that you do. I want the power of Hokage, the fear and respect that it gives. I couldn't care less about the people."

"Then you'll never be Hokage!"

"Oh? And if I bring your head back to the village, do you really think they could refuse anything I demanded?"

Hashirama narrowed his eyes. "Madara, you don't realize what you're saying."

"It's nothing personal, Hashirama. You were good to my clan. You were honest with me. You... are so much like Izuna. If you were anyone else, it wouldn't have come to this. I would've asked you to join me... but you had to be Hokage. You had to be in my way. And so, I have to do this. I will apologize to your brother, after you're dead. I won't pretend not to enjoy this, though: I've wanted to go all-out with you for the longest time!"

Madara began the battle in the simplest way.

He blinked.

The seal around him burst into flames, a circle of orange that quickly turned black. And then, in the space of a second, the Kyuubi no Youko was thrust fully into the world, answering Madara's invitation for one reason, and one reason only: the promise of battle, blood, and destruction.

The moment that the demon fox emerged from the seal, the Shodai Hokage knew that there would be no avoiding the fight any longer. Not for a creature whose sole purpose was to obliterate everything in its path. It would take everything that Hashirama had to stop this madness.

And in the end, he was fully aware that his all might only slow it down.

He had to bet everything on the idea that Madara was Kyuubi's anchor to this world, that if Madara were defeated, the demon fox would be pulled back into the hellish world it had come from. In short, he was praying that the Kyuubi would function like any normal summon.

On the other hand, hoping that the demon fox was in any way normal was madness itself.

* * *

The battle dragged on for hours.

Madara had the advantage from the start. Most of the work had been just summoning the demon fox there. Controlling it was no small feat, but Madara didn't even have to do much of that. Kyuubi was centuries old, and had probably forgotten more about killing than Madara had ever known. Occasionally Madara would add a Katon jutsu here and there, all of which were intensified just by Kyuubi's presence. But for the most part, the Uchiha stood back and let the fox control the pace of the battle.

Hashirama was forced into defense right away. At first, he had been concerned that Kyuubi might ignore him in favor of trying to reach the village. But the truth was that the demon fox wanted to fight him, just as much as he wanted to stop it. There was, however, little point in attacking Kyuubi, anyway. No matter how thick they were, or how much chakra they might contain, a branch was still fundamentally a branch, and while some took longer to burn, in the end, they all did burn. The Shodai could produce tree limbs that were fast enough and thick enough to pierce through Kyuubi's flaming aura and reach the fox's actual body, but the damage was minimal, and the enormous drain on his chakra simply wasn't worth it.

Artio was the real difference maker. Her one good eye was able to spot the attacks that both of Hashirama's missed, and the tree limbs she produced to counter were much slower to burn. She drew her power from the earth itself, and so as long as the battle didn't move to the air, she would not go down. But the earth had its own limits: the ground beneath them was gradually being sapped of its vitality. Kyuubi's wildly thrashing tails did no one any favors when they randomly struck the ground in frustration. If the battle lasted long enough, the earth would collapse beneath them, and if only for a few crucial seconds, Artio's strength would wane.

At the same time, the Shodai would be provided with the opening he so desperately needed. At the very least, the seal that had allowed Kyuubi passage into this world would be destroyed. In the best case scenario, Hashirama would be able to strike Madara directly, hopefully severing all of Kyuubi's ties to the world.

The chance came sooner than the Shodai had expected. In a fit of rage at being denied his prey, two of Kyuubi's tails drilled in the earth and tore open a wide trench, hoping to bury both of his foes at once. The ground began to shake violently, and then the trench became a gaping wound in the earth that threatened to swallow them all.

"Mokuton: Daijurin no Jutsu!" Hashirama roared as he fell. He whipped his right arm forward, pouring his chakra into the technique. For a long instant, nothing happened. Then his entire arm became a grasping tree limb, stretching the entire distance of the growing chasm and latching onto Madara's head. With the last of his strength, the Shodai Hokage drove the Uchiha headfirst through every falling obstacle within reach, only releasing him when Madara's head impacted a large rock with a sickening thud.

The Hokage's eyes began to drift shut as exhaustion finally defeated him. The last thing he saw was Madara's limp body, just as it vanished in an errant swipe of one of Kyuubi's tails.

* * *

The next day, Madara's body was found floating in a river.

This was odd for several reasons.

There simply hadn't BEEN a river there the day before, for one thing.

Next, and far more noticeable, Madara's armor was slightly charred and smoking, despite being soaked. Someone with a grudge had gone through a great deal of trouble to make sure that he was burned, and used a rather persistent type flame to do it.

In addition, Madara's face, once thought of as very striking, was still that, but for an entirely different reason. Somewhere, between the deep scratches, impacting rocks, and near-fatal burns, his face had become little more than a mess of brown, wrinkly scar tissue. From a distance, it could be (and was) mistaken for an unassuming rock, perfect for an unassuming duck to perch upon.

This was, in fact, Madara's second encounter with these particular ducks, and once again, he was completely unaware of it.

The ducks were usually not inclined to be so benevolent, but the discovery of Madara had gone something like this:

"DAMN, Goldie! You messed up the poor bastard's face that bad just by SITTING on it?!"

"Least we can do is take him to a village, so he can die on a futon or something."

"Yeah, but no witnesses, boys! Nobody's gonna pin this bum's bum rap on the Mighty Summon Ducks!"

* * *

A week later, an unknown man turned up in the Hidden Mist Village. He was half-dead, unconscious, and surrounded by a few white feathers. Coincidentally enough, he looked nothing like the missing Uchiha Madara, who Konoha was desperate to find for various reasons. Any identifying armor he might have been wearing was removed before his arrival, possibly just to make him a lighter burden to carry.

The general rule for such matters was to hold off any decisions until the man woke up. There was no point in throwing away or killing a potential shinobi, after all. If he could fight, there would be a place for him.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Mizukage**

Madara's lust for power brings him to new heights, and soon after, new lows.

* * *

Endnotes:

Artio is named after the Celtic bear goddess.

* * *

Mokuton: Kuchiyose: Yuurin Kyuusaisha: (Wood Release: Summoning: Deep Forest Savior)

Summons Artio, the Bear boss.

* * *

Mokuton: Daijurin no Jutsu (Wood Release: Great Forest Technique)

A technique that changes one's own arm into big trees. Using chakra, the tissues are transformed into trees at the cellular level. Then, by activating the trees, stimulating them to grow rapidly, they lengthen at high speed and fork into many branches. It is possible to capture the enemy with these branches and at the same time, if one changes the ends into sharp stakes, turn them into countless, sharp, spear-like piercing weapons.


	3. Mizukage

Notes: I'm sure you all know that there's only two or three really good Naruto timelines out there, all put together by fans, and all with their fuzzy areas. The history of Kirigakure is one of those especially fuzzy areas, and I'm not sure who is to blame for that: Kishimoto, Madara, or just those Bloody Mist-ers who were too busy hacking away at each other to write anything down (you'd think they could scrawl a few important dates in blood, SOMETHING!). Most of Kirigakure's historical info here comes from its more infamous misfits, who I more or less used to piece together a very rough timeline.

* * *

**Return of the M.A.D.**

**A Naruto Fanfic by**

**Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**

**Part 3: Mizukage**

* * *

Uchiha Madara never existed in the Village Hidden in the Mist. Not by that name, at least.

In the first moments after he awakened, he formed a crude mask out of superheated clay, and was only seen without one in less than three instances, and only by those few that managed to make themselves useful to him.

From the start, he wore mystery like armor. When asked, he never gave the same name twice, and changed the appearance of his masks anywhere from five times a week to hundreds of times in a single day. The only way he allowed himself to be recognized was through his strength.

No matter how he fought, he simply did not lose. And before long, he was the only person in the village who could claim as much (though of course he never did).

The ruse worked a little too well. It was years before anyone was able to acknowledge his brilliance, and only then because he temporarily settled on a series of water-themed masks. Because the village was in constant conflict with itself, there could be no real political process involved with the selection of Mizukage. No one would respect a man that only talked big, not when there were others who were not only stronger, but willing to take the title by force. It was simply a title held by might. The Shodai Mizukage ruled until someone was strong enough to take his hat in a public challenge and keep it for a week. It was a nearly impossible feat, so naturally, Madara was the first to do it. He made the task much easier by simply killing the Mizukage the moment he had the hat, and mostly waited out the week riding out the wave of shock that stunned the village for nearly four days. Then the challengers came, and most of them died, too.

It was nowhere near as satisfying as being Hokage, but for the moment, it was enough. Madara had no intention of attacking Konoha, though. Not yet. His revenge on the village could wait, and he was certain that Hashirama would be dead soon enough. Between his wounds and the highly toxic nature of Kyuubi's chakra, there was no way that the Shodai Hokage would last much longer.

But there was one aspect of vengeance that could not and would not wait. Madara felt the betrayal of his clan every single day. He now fully recognized the Sharingan as both his power and his curse. When the time was right, he would destroy the Uchiha. But even he recognized that practice made perfect. So he encouraged the bloodline users of his village at every opportunity, while secretly studying and dissecting (sometimes quite literally) them and their secrets. Madara could've used the excuse that as Mizukage, he was expected to know every jutsu in his village, but it was simply a hunger for invincibility and immortality that drove him. He was determined that he would never be defeated again, and certainly not by another advanced bloodline user.

It was an easy task for Madara to gather the most bloodthirsty Mist-nin. He simply rewarded them, selecting the seven best and giving them unprecedented power. The Seven Ninja Swordsmen had all the power of ANBU, yet none of the restraints. While they technically reported to Madara, he generally gave them free reign, so long as they didn't challenge his orders (and even if they did, it was fairly easy to keep them in line). To a certain extent, they were even free to choose their missions and assume command in any battle involving other Mist-nin.

Madara gave them virtually everything they could want or need. He knew it wouldn't be enough, even counted on it. That was no problem. He didn't intend to be Mizukage forever. It was merely a convenient stepping stone. Already he had begun to lay the foundation of something far grander, using his connections to seek out ninja with enormous potential. It was no coincidence that he often trusted such missions to young Hoshigaki Kisame. Kisame loved heading deep into enemy territory alone, and was always up for a chance to get a new sample of chakra for Samehada to devour. Madara doubted that anyone else could've survived the initial interviews with Kakuzu and Zetsu, anyway.

If he had wished it, Madara could easily have not only remained the Nidaime Mizukage for a much longer period, he could have also been the LAST Mizukage. But once again, his lust for power became his downfall.

* * *

Madara began that fateful morning with bad news: two S-rank missions had been successfully completed on his orders.

The first mission was no real surprise. Kisame never failed the missions that Madara gave him. He literally couldn't, because Madara only ever ordered him to shave someone to bloody shreds, or to at least try until he'd absorbed enough of their chakra to feel full (and in the latter case, they wouldn't live much longer, anyway). Any day that Kisame returned to the village grinning and soaked in blood that was not his own was a good day in Madara's book.

But the other mission had been completed by Mikan Yura, the unquestioned leader of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, as well as the only female member to date. She was also the only kunoichi in the village that Madara privately considered to be a threat. Like Kisame, she was undefeated. Unlike Kisame, Madara had no idea what her ambitions were. The last time he had let so much power go unchecked, it had ruined his life. It was a mistake that Madara had no intention of making again.

Of course, he knew that the source of Yura's power was her sword: the mighty Shiroisshoku. Other than Kisame's Samehada, it was the only great sword that hadn't been commissioned by Madara. It had simply been produced, as had Yura, from a family of talented swordsmiths, the very same Madara had ordered to make the swords in the first place. Still, no matter how talented the sword, it could only ever be as strong as the wielder, and Madara was convinced that Yura couldn't do much of anything without Shiroisshoku.

Still, he made preparations, in case anything should go wrong. The first step was to call Kisame into his office. Most ninja would not have given the blue-skinned boy that walked in more than a first, disgusted glance, but it would have meant their doom. Madara had learned from his failure with Kyuubi, and learned well. The Isonade was not as powerful: not yet, anyway. But its potential was boundless, and off to an excellent start, despite or even because of Madara's tinkering. The demon had not been captured in any way. Madara had simply coaxed it into possessing an otherwise normal newborn, and Kisame had been the result. The Isonade had asserted its dominance from the start, but as the boy grew, he became a curious blend of Isonade's power and ferocity, and a boy's hunger for fun and fame. Naturally, the Isonade had no idea that it was slowly but surely being absorbed, and by the time it became obvious, there would be no escape. Even if the demon had managed to break free, it would still fall under Madara's sway. Such was the power of the accursed Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan.

"I'm going to dispose of Yura," Madara told Kisame. "If you do not hear from me in ten hours, Operation Sandaime will go into effect. Other than that, you will remain loyal until I appear to you again."

"As you command, Nidaime-sama," Kisame replied flatly, once again deep in the sway of Madara's Sharingan. "I will await your return."

Madara smirked beneath his mask. He had forbidden Kisame to call him anything else. Although there were plenty of perks to being Mizukage, he hated the title. Hokage had been his dream, once. At least this way, he could pretend that he was. It was a useless game, but one that soothed his bruised ego, if only momentarily.

* * *

Yura had never asked to be the leader of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, nor had she ever abused the power that came with that position. It was simply a natural process: no one could touch her, and Madara had recognized that. There had been some resistance from the other Mist-nin, at first. After all, Yura was only twelve years old when Madara selected her. Some of the other Swordsmen were twice her age, and all were far more experienced. But all of them HAD been beaten at least once, if only by each other, or Madara himself. Granted, Madara had never faced Yura in combat, a fact that he had purposely neglected to mention to them.

From the moment that Madara had first seen her, he'd known that Yura had enormous potential. Her dull green eyes and pale complexion, along with the short, white hair that framed her face, always gave the impression that she was sickly. But even if she had been, Madara suspected it wouldn't have mattered.

Shiroisshoku was a sword unlike any other. The blade was unnaturally large, nearly wider than Yura's own body, and thick to the point of also serving as a shield. It had two handles more out of necessity than convenience, although Yura had been known to attach the sword to one arm with her chakra if she needed a free hand.

Those, however, were merely the sword's physical attributes. Madara knew there was more to its power, but had not dared to investigate himself. He'd heard stories of people who had only gazed at the sword and then lost their minds, never able to respond to anything ever again. He'd never actually seen these "zombies," but the rumor was far too common for his liking.

Madara found Yura in the usual place: sitting on a bench outside of her apartment, feeding the ducks that lived on the nearby pond. Though Yura noticed him coming and turned towards him, she made no move to rise, and instead bowed her head respectfully. "Mizukage-sama, you honor my humble home with your presence. But I was informed that you would receive my report at a later date."

"I'm not here for that, Yura. I think it's time we discussed your future in detail. What do you think about becoming my personal bodyguard?"

Her eyes widened. "I-It would be an honor..."

"I would, of course, have to test you first," Madara added, watching her face carefully. "A mere formality, you understand. I have no doubt that you are qualified."

Yura bit her lip. "I had thought you would select Kisame-kun for something like this. He seems closer to you than anyone else."

"That is a trust that he, not unlike you, has earned." He extended his hand to her. "Come, Yura. Become my sword, and you will know true greatness."

She hesitated only for an instant, then placed her hand in his. "I live to serve you, Mizu-" Yura began, but her eyes moved up to meet his, and then she, like so many others, fell victim to the Sharingan.

* * *

Almost everyone had a typical reaction, upon first opening their eyes within the confines of the illusionary world of Tsukuyomi. Madara rather enjoyed the ones who chose to resist at first, as if they had any chance of escaping. Those ones always screamed especially loud when they finally broke under torture.

Madara didn't intend to torture Yura, though. Once he had proven that escape was impossible for her, he would simply kill her and be done with it. He felt that her loyal service had earned her that small bit of mercy.

Oddly enough, Yura did not appear afraid, even though she suddenly found herself on the ground, weighed down by heavy shackles. If the blood-red moon and sky bothered her at all, it did not show on her face. She merely took it all in one long glance, then turned her gaze back to him expectantly.

"I regret to inform you that you will die here, Yura," Madara said calmly. "Let me assure you that it is nothing personal. You are merely a loose end that must be tied."

"You are going to kill me solely because of the power I possess?" Yura asked softly.

"As well as for the power you may one day grasp. I cannot take that risk."

Yura closed her eyes. "I understand. I do not accept it, but I understand all too well."

Madara shook his head. "You have no say in the matter, I'm afraid. My Tsukuyomi is the perfect genjutsu. You cannot escape, or hope to defeat me here. I am in complete control of this world, and there is nothing you can say or do to prevent your death."

"I have no doubt that it is powerful," Yura murmured, "and it may indeed be that no one has ever escaped it. But you have severely underestimated me, Mizukage-sama, and more importantly, my sword. As a result, you have only managed to seal your own fate."

"Denial does not suit you, Yura. There is no-"

"Hyoton: Kairou," Yura said simply.

Madara was not immediately alarmed, only cautious. He had already completely suppressed her chakra, and was just waiting for her to realize it. There was no way for her to use any technique, now that she was wrapped within Tsukuyomi.

But nothing else could quite explain the way the red moon suddenly developed a long, white crack down the center.

"If I were anyone else, or simply had any another sword, I would be powerless, and you would have defeated me," Yura admitted. "But Shiroisshoku and I are eternally bound, heart and soul. His power is mine... just as my jutsu are his."

Madara's eyes widened as the moon, the sky, the shackles, everything in his unbeatable illusion suddenly cracked and shattered into millions of red shards around them, revealing a long, white hallway. With a start, he realized it had probably been there the whole, carefully woven around his illusion in such a way that he never would've noticed, if Yura hadn't shattered his first.

"I have always wondered what kind of man you truly are," Yura murmured as she stood up. "Just as you no doubt wonder about my power. I will give you all that you seek. There will no longer be any secrets between us. Gaze into the shattered pieces of your intent, and you will know me."

And Madara did. He saw how Yura's father had forged Shiroisshoku on the night she was born, compelled only by the idea that it might one day protect her. The man poured all of his love for his daughter into the task, and the rewards were both numerous and heartbreaking. From the moment she could crawl, Yura had been drawn to the sword. Of course, she wasn't allowed to touch it at first, but she would wail, continuously and furiously, if the sword was not at least in the same room as her. It remained that way until Yura grew old enough to safely handle the sword, and by then it was clear that she treasured it more than family, friends, or anything else in her life. Shiroisshoku was the only thing that she believed in, the only thing she knew for certain would always be with her. It was not a matter of choice: indeed, there was none. Yura could not help but love the sword as it loved her.

It was her own personal curse, no different from the Mangekyou Sharingan.

"As I suspected," Yura said softly, breaking into his thoughts. "You truly are a great man, Uchiha-sama. I would have been proud to serve under you for a while longer."

Madara's shock only grew. In the red shards at Yura's feet, he could see pieces of his own life: Izuna's death, his first meeting with Kyuubi, the battle with the Shodai Hokage, and the creation of Kisame.

"I knew you would betray me one day, Nidaime-sama. I hoped it wouldn't be so soon, but your greed has brought you to me sooner than I expected. If you were not so determined to destroy me, I would serve you still. But this is where our paths cross, and one of us cannot continue on as we are. Now I will show you my own perfect jutsu. Hyoton: Hakuma."

A large mound of snow rose up from the ground, compressing itself into a humanoid shape. Yura gave the snowman a tap with her finger, and it instantly came to life, though not just in the expected sense. Black hair burst out of the snowman's head, and it opened its eyes to reveal the glowing red of the Sharingan. More features quickly emerged, until Madara recognized Uchiha Sora, the very man he'd killed for daring to challenge his rule over the clan. But Sora had not been difficult to dispatch, and Madara suspected that would be true even of a clone. He was right, in that a single swipe of a kunai sent Sora's head tumbling to the ground. But he was also wrong, in that the head reverted to snow and rejoined the body, whose features shifted again until Madara was staring at his late brother, Izuna.

"It seems we must fight again, Onii-sama," Izuna said softly. "I won't go easy on you."

Madara was not the least bit bothered by his brother's appearance. He knew this, too, was an illusion, designed to exploit his weaknesses. "You'll have to do better than this, Yura. Such an obvious genjutsu will have no impact on me."

Yura blinked slowly as Izuna formed a familiar hand seal and inhaled deeply. "You are mistaken, Uchiha-sama. The only thing my genjutsu has accomplished is the sharing of our memories. I assure you that this clone, and the damage it does, is quite authentic. It was crafted from your very own memories of your brother, and what could be more genuine than that?"

Madara's eyes widened as Izuna spat out an enormous fireball, not because of the attack itself, but because he knew what would be coming behind it. Sure enough, when Madara substitued himself with one of the shards near Yura's feet, he was immediately bound by several lengths of wire.

"You're so predictable when you dodge, Onii-sama," Izuna said in his ear. "I never needed my Sharingan to read you." With that, he buried a kunai deep into Madara's lower back.

White-hot pain flooded Madara's body, confirming what he had been denying from the moment his illusion shattered: he was no longer in control. He should not have felt pain in this world unless he willed it. But it also meant that Yura was not in complete control, or he'd already be dead. It just meant that she had a fighting chance, which was more than most would've had.

Still, Madara was not at all surprised to see that the long hallway remained despite the pain he felt. Experiencing pain was a common way to escape genjutsu, but the better ones could withstand even that, and sometimes purposely caused it to exploit that improvement. If Yura could do this much, either her illusion was extremely convincing, or it was all real enough, just as she'd claimed. Madara would never find out unless he escaped, though, and he HAD to know for sure. His pride would allow nothing else.

Forcing himself to ignore the pain, Madara decided to test how much influence his will still had. A small fan materialized in his hand, and with a smirk, he jerked it upwards, sending a lethal, near-invisible blade of wind just over his shoulder. The choked gasp behind him proved that his aim had been perfect.

But by the time Madara turned around, he found himself face to face with the Shodai Hokage. By now he had come to accept that these illusions were very real, because he had lived through them. Which meant that this Shodai Hokage would be every bit as difficult to fight as the original. No, even more so: Madara did not dare to summon even a fake Kyuubi here, for fear that it would turn and attack him before anyone else.

In the end, it made no difference. This was one battle that Uchiha Madara was destined to lose.

* * *

Yura watched patiently as the Uchiha fought on and on against increasingly difficult opponents. The win over the Shodai had been a very close thing. The following overKyuubi, closer still. But that was always the case with her victims.

They always threw everything they had into the battle before the last, thinking there was no greater challenge to be faced.

And then they faced themselves.

Yura sometimes tweaked that final battle, but there was truly no need here. Madara stood no chance against the mad Uchiha who stood wreathed in the all-consuming fire of Kyuubi's demonic aura. The worst part had been that sinister man's laughter, because he truly believed that what he was, was something truly great and honorable.

She could not see through Madara's mask as he lay immobile on the ground, but suspected that his expression was one of disbelief and horror as the clone's gloved hands wrapped around his next and ignited, the hungry flames enveloping Madara's head in an instant.

Yura had respected him before, even after he betrayed her. When he did not scream or cry out, her respect grew.

"I have learned much from you this day, Uchiha-sama," she murured, kneeling next to him. "I will never forget you." Then she motioned to the clone, who tightened his grip and slammed Madara's head into the ground.

* * *

Yura decided that Madara should leave the village the same way he'd arrived. Fortunately, this was easily arranged.

She merely took him to a secluded spot on the river, bit her thumb, and made the appropriate hand seals. A moment later, smoke billowed from the water as a large flock of extraordinarily large ducks appeared.

"Hey, guys!" one of the ducks shouted. "It's Yura!"

Ducks were rather intelligent summons, as it happened: they never forgot people who fed them generously. Yura lived down the street from a baker, one who was always looking for a way to get rid of day-old bread.

She was rather expecting it when the ducks began to chant excitedly, "FOOD, FOOD, FOOD!!!"

"I'm sorry, boys," she told them. "No food. At least, not right now."

More than a few ducks groaned in disappointment, but the possibility of bread in the near future ultimately held their attention.

"So whatcha need, Yura?" another duck asked. "Some punk giving you a hard time? Want us to rough him up a bit?!"

She smiled. "No, no. Nothing like that. I want you to allow this man to sign your contract." Yura pointed to the unmoving body at her feet. "You've aided him before, yes?"

"Oh, hey! It's ol' Charface!" one duck cried. "I'd know that scent anywhere!"

"Looks like he lost another fight, poor fella," another added. "He's not too good at this ninja stuff, is he? Maybe he should quit while he's ahead."

Yura said nothing.

"Well, normally we'd have to run it by the Boss, but I'm sure he won't care since it's you asking, Yura."

Without a word, Yura offered them Madara's thumb, which was steadily dripping blood. A few ducks thought it was a bit odd, but didn't comment as they produced the contract. Yura signed his name rather neatly, as it was not the first time she'd helped someone sign the contract in such a way.

Once that was done, Yura had the ducks transport the Uchiha to a location of their choosing, provided it was nowhere near the village. Only when they were out of sight did she allow the fatigue she felt to truly take hold. Madara had fought her illusions far longer than any other opponent had, and even with his memories exposed to her, it had been a very close thing in the end. A few minutes more, and she might have been in real trouble. The dual jutsu were easy for her, but performing them through Shiroisshoku, and maintaining that connection, was not. The sword always took more of her chakra than was necessary, but as a result, Yura had increased her reserves substantially in a short time.

Yura could not be blamed for dropping her guard. With Madara out of the way, there were no real threats to her left in the village. Kisame could be a problem, but only in that he might refuse to accept her version of events and force Yura to dispose of him. Technically, she was in a perfect position to become Mizukage. That was not something she, nor any of the other Swordsmen wanted, though. Yes, there was the power and the fame, but the fact was that most Kages rarely ever saw action or left the village. Aside from that, the climate in the Hidden Mist was always unstable enough that the leader being gone for extended periods was just begging for trouble. No, Mizukage was a curse that she could do without.

Uchiha Madara was beyond even Yura's curse, however, so she was caught completely off guard by the man that rose out of the earth without a sound, and slashed her across the back with a sword, deeply enough that she would be momentarily paralyzed by the pain, but not so deeply as to rob her of the use of her legs. But in the end, never walking again would've been infinitely kinder.

Yura knew her attacker's identity at once, and when he rolled her onto her side with his foot, she could not decide what she wanted to ask Madara first: how he'd managed this, or why he hadn't killed her.

"I've decided not to kill you," he told her. "Instead, I'm going to torture you, for the rest of your life. Your children will live in terror of the day that I come to steal every semblance of joy in their lives. This village will come to loathe you, your family, and everything that you touch."

"How?" Yura whispered.

"How did I do this? Simple. Before Madara challenged you, he made me, a special clone, and instructed me to observe your battle. Then he had me hypnotize him, and erase all memory of my creation from his mind. That is why you did not see it in his memories."

Yura closed her eyes, wishing for death, but Madara yanked her head roughly by her hair, forcing her to look at him.

"No, Yura. You will suffer. Death is too good for you now." He glared at her, his Mangekyou Sharingan easily piercing through any remaining defenses and burrowing into the core of her mind.

Despite what he'd told her, she prayed for death, and he laughed, as her thoughts were easily read by then.

"At the appropriate age, Yura, you will become a whore. You will lie with any man that can either look past your scars, or find beauty in them. You will bear as many children as your body allows, and they will all be just as cursed as you are. You will do everything in your power to help them survive, so that they can suffer to the fullest extent. You will bear the Mizukage of a new generation. He will belong to me. Now, go and live, Yura. Live, knowing that I control your fate, the fate of your children, the fate of this village."

* * *

Kisame was expecting the emergency meeting that was called that night. As there had been no contact from his boss, and Yura was still sitting at the head of the meeting table, alive but heavily bandaged, he knew what he had to do. But Yura could easily set the plan into motion, or destroy it utterly, depending on how she shared, and if she told the truth about her battle with the Mizukage.

"This is a time of great crisis," Yura began softly. "The Mizukage has abandoned us."

The statement was met with complete silence until Genji, the oldest member, cleared his throat. "I assume your wounds are related to this matter, Yura-sama."

"You are perceptive as always, Genji-san. The Mizukage and I had a disagreement about my future. He threatened my life, and we fought. We were both seriously injured, and I witnessed him fleeing the village. I do not believe he will return."

"So he's alive?" Kisame asked abruptly. This was expected of him. They all knew that he was close to the Mizukage.

"Very much so, Kisame-kun," Yura confirmed. "But I am sorry for your loss."

Kisame shrugged. "He tried to kill you. I'm sure you did only what you had to, Yura-sama."

"You should've killed him," said Sadao, the last member to join. "Now we've got this mess on our hands."

Yura shook her head. "We would have it either way. I will not be Mizukage, and I know you all feel the same way. Therefore, I am open to suggestions on how we will handle this. Above all, we cannot allow the village to realize that its leader is gone. The resulting unrest would only make things worse for us."

"I have an idea," Kisame offered eventually. "The village just needs to see someone carrying the hat. We should do that."

"Which one of us?" Sadao asked.

"All of us. It's perfect. Who else could take the hat from one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen?"

"Another one of us," Genji murmured, catching on. "And we pass it amongst ourselves before the time limit expires, so that none of us is named Mizukage. It makes for a nice game of tag, but we couldn't keep it up forever."

"We won't. Just until we find a suitable Mizukage. No one's going to challenge us when we officially name someone."

Yura nodded. "All in favor?"

Seven hands went up.

"Kisame's idea will be put into effect immediately. Genji-san, would you mind going first? It's to be expected that you could take the hat from Nidaime-sama."

"You flatter me, Yura-sama," the older man said, but he accepted the Mizukage hat all the same. "I assume you're next in line?"

"It doesn't really matter to me," Yura replied, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes, her fatigue obvious. "Dismissed."

Kisame rose to leave with the other five, but was halted.

"Kisame-kun, would you remain a moment?" Yura asked. "There is something I need to discuss with you."

None of the others even paused as they filed out of the room. It was true that while Yura and Kisame had much in common, such as both being young prodigies, they were more occasional associates than friends. They had different areas of specialty, and rarely ever had missions together. Kisame kept to himself, and so did Yura, but she made an effort to speak with her comrades regularly.

But Kisame was still worried as he sat back down. Yura was incredibly hard to read, and it had never really been his specialty, anyway. He had no idea what she was thinking.

"I know," she said softly, after they had been alone for a few minutes.

"Know what, Yura-sama?" he asked.

She stared at him with tired eyes. "Everything. That you have a demon in you. That your chakra grows so quickly because you absorb it from your victims. That your master will not return for quite some time. I know it all, Kisame-kun."

Beneath the table, his hands twitched, aching to go for his sword. He had no chance against Yura without the element of surprise, but he wasn't about to lie down and die.

The former Mizukage hadn't ordered him to, for one thing. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"Calm down, Kisame-kun," Yura added, sensing his distress. "We are still comrades. I only mean to warn you about that man. Whatever he has told you, whatever orders you are following now, be very careful. He is not a man that anyone can trust for very long, and I would hate to see him curse you as he has me."

Kisame said nothing.

Yura sighed and closed her eyes. "You may go, Kisame-kun. I wish you well."

She meant it, he could tell. But that only confused Kisame more as he hurried from the room.

* * *

Zetsu was no stranger to patience. He had it in abundance, and always had a certain gift for keeping himself occupied. Still, he didn't like it when people were late. Both of his associates were today, and if killing them both were acceptable or possible, he might very well have done it.

Kakuzu arrived first. He offered no explanation for being late until prompted. And even then, all he said was, "I had several someones to kill." Zetsu had no reason to doubt that, so he didn't.

The last man to arrive did so in rather unique fashion. He rode up on a giant duck, wearing duck-print pajamas and a duck mask. He was even singing a song about ducks, in such a way that he almost had to be tone deaf.

The only reason Zetsu and Kakuzu didn't ignore him entirely was the slight but definite aura of suppressed power and malice around the newcomer.

"Is he the one?" Kakuzu asked.

Zetsu didn't answer at first. With Kakuzu, his identity had been obvious at first glance. No one even slightly resembled him. This newcomer was another issue entirely. "Possibly. Anyone else that met us here would only be inviting their doom."

"Agreed," Kakuzu said, and with no further warning, he suddenly vanished and reappeared on the duck's back, behind the stranger, grabbing his neck in an iron grip. "Let me know if he does anything familiar before I pull his head off."

Zetsu had never met with Uchiha Madara in person. In truth, he and many others believed that man to be dead. He only knew of an unnamed power, and the lone person who served it, a young Hoshigaki Kisame. Kisame was impressive enough, having chipped a few of Zetsu's teeth on Samehada. And while Zetsu knew nothing of the stranger before him, he suspected that anything the stranger did to escape or survive murder by Kakuzu would be reason enough to cease any further attacks. Otherwise, they would simply have a dead body on their hands, and not for long, as Zetsu had skipped lunch so he could arrive early.

Oddly enough, the stranger did not die. But the way in which he escaped was somewhat unusual.

The duck, who had yet to react to anything so far, suddenly turned to gaze at the two men standing on its back. An instant later, Kakuzu howled as he got a face full of black fire, diving into the water at once. From what Zetsu could see, the fire wasn't at all diminished by the water.

The stranger regained his footing quickly and neatly slid off of the duck's back. "Thank you, Goldie," he said calmly.

The duck quacked in a half-hearted sort of way, dipping his head to snatch up the piece of bread that the stranger offered before vanishing in a large plume of smoke.

The stranger looked at Kakuzu, who was still thrashing in the water, and winked behind his mask.

Kakuzu instantly froze, the black flames now mysteriously missing from his burned face. He got to his feet at once, not expecting an apology. He wasn't disappointed.

"Shall we begin, gentlemen?" the stranger asked.

The other two nodded. They all turned to leave, and unable to resist, Zetsu commented, "Nice duck."

The stranger whipped his head around, and Zetsu suspected that he was beaming beneath the mask. "Wasn't he, though?!" There was a small pause, and then the stranger turned away, dipping his head and quickly replacing the duck mask with a brown one that closely resembled the rings of a tree. "Come. There is no more time to waste here."

Satisfied, Zetsu glanced at Kakuzu, who threw one last look at the discarded duck mask before bringing up the rear.

* * *

Yura lived longer than she expected to. She bore enough daughters that she consistently lost count, even before senility could be blamed.

Kisame had left the village some time before, no doubt to join his master. Yura still thought of Kisame as a comrade despite his status, and was grateful that he had not been ordered to kill her.

She was not shocked when her fifth grandson, a small, timid boy named Yagura, became officially recognized as the Yondaime Mizukage. Nor was she at all surprised when he requested to be sworn in at her home. Yura agreed easily enough: Yagura had been born a sweet child, and had remained so even after the Sanbi was sealed inside of him. Of all of her grandchildren, she was most fond of him.

That had doomed him from the start.

Just before he put the Mizukage hat on for the first time, he looked at her, smiled, and nodded. Then his face vanished as he dipped his head to put on the hat. The moment it touched his head, the usual, hesitant smile slipped away, and when Yagura lifted his head, for a moment, Yura would swear that she was looking into a demon's eyes, a pair that had nothing to do with the Sanbi sleeping inside of him.

**End of Part 3.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: Akatsuki**

Madara's organization begins to take shape, just as Tobi begins to make frequent appearances.

* * *

Endnotes:

I decided to make Madara the Nidaime Mizukage. Why? So far it seems like most hidden villages go through Kages at roughly similar rates. So I figure Madara coming to power as Nidaime Mizukage would happen shortly before the Shodai Hokage's death. That Kisame recognizes Madara as Mizukage places them both in Kirigakure at the same time (unless he only recognized Madara's face from a photo, which would be stupid; why would you go around posing for pictures when you're public enemy number one in Konoha?). But Kisame is listed as only three years older than Zabuza, so either Kisame was VERY young when he became a ninja, or one of the Mizukage had an extremely short reign. I say that because Yagura was supposedly already in power for some time when Zabuza "graduated," so either there was no Mizukage between Madara and Yagura, or the poor shmuck just got owned by Yagura like a week into office. I got so frustrated that I finally decided, who can confirm that there even WAS a Sandaime Mizukage at this point? You see the result here.

No idea who the very first Akatsuki recruits were, but the timeline I used suggested that they were Zetsu and Kakuzu. Kakuzu is certainly old enough, at least.

Mikan Yura is an OC, as is her sword, Shiroisshoku.

To clarify, the Isonade is NOT the Sanbi here. It is, however, an aquatic demon of considerable strength and potential. I figure if Madara can control Kyuubi, reputed to be the most powerful demon ever, any other demon is cake.

* * *

Yura's jutsu:

**Hyoton: Kairou (Ice Release: Corridor):**

A powerful genjutsu that freezes the victim in place while they and the user witness each other's live in the space of a few seconds. In the victim's eyes, the two are slowly approaching each other from opposite ends of a long, white corridor.

**Hyoton: Hakuma (Ice Release: White Devil):**

A ninjutsu compliment to Hyoton: Kairou. The victim struggles with a clone composed of snow, resembling a person from the past. Each time it is "killed," it rises up again as another foe, until the victim finally comes face to face with themself.

Shiroisshoku: bright white (esp. for snow and ice); brilliant white


End file.
